Chores
by Natascope
Summary: Ron and Hermione are tasked with cleaning a bedroom in Grimmauld Place during the cleaning effort before Harry arrives.


I do not own Harry Potter.

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A/N: This is for Season V of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, round #12

Team & Position: Caerphilly Catapults, Beater 1.

Base Prompt: You'll be writing about two characters in a friendship (platonic) relationship.

Characters: Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.

Optional Prompts:

12\. (phrase) A man is known by the company he keeps

13\. (object) blouse

14\. (word) fix

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Hermione and Ron trudged up the stairs of 12 Grimmauld Place after enjoying lunch with Sirius, Remus, and the Weasley family. Now, it was time to get back to cleaning one of the bedrooms in an attempt to make the house habitable. Thankfully, others had already done a cursory sweep of the rooms to clear out anything tainted with Dark magic. That left the younger generation to clean out the rest of the room.

As the pair attempted to step carefully past the sleeping portrait of Walburga Black, the loud clang of a dropping pan in the kitchen caused both Hermione and Ron to wince. The brief moment of hope that the portrait wouldn't wake up was killed when the curtains flew wide open to the sound of a screech.

" _Mudbloods and blood traitors, still here in the sacred house of Black! All of you, begone from here at once! Kreacher! Kreacher! Get rid of these pests!_ "

With a long-suffered groan, the two teenagers continued trundling up the stairs. They could hear Sirius making his way up to the portrait in an attempt to shut up his mother. If they could only figure out how Walburga had been able to fix her portrait to the wall, they could finally be rid of the shrill banshee. Then they would no longer need to listen to her rant and rave at the slightest provocation.

As the two entered their assigned bedroom to clean, Hermione turned to Ron with a thoughtful frown on her face. "Ron, what defines a 'blood traitor?'"

Ron went white at the question. "What?"

"Well, for years I've heard some students at Hogwarts refer to you, and the Weasleys in general, as blood traitors." Hermione very carefully didn't name any specific students, though both knew she was mainly talking about Malfoy and his ilk. "What is the reasoning behind that? I've never asked about it before. "

"It's not something that is talked about in polite company," Ron attempted to prevaricate.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "When has that ever stopped you talking about something?"

Ron let out a sigh as he handed a trash bag to Hermione while he took his own in hand. Opening the first drawer of the dresser, he started shoving things into the bag. Hermione kept standing there waiting for an answer. Just before she asked again, Ron began to talk.

"There isn't a lot that defines it. If you get enough of the Purebloods upset about something, they will label you, or in the worst case your entire family, as blood traitors. For the Weasleys, it mainly came down to the fact that we don't care about blood status the same way that most of the Purebloods do. Especially those Purebloods in the Ministry. With Dad working in an office dealing with Muggles, we are—perhaps rightly—seen as Muggleborn sympathizers. As we are keeping company with the 'wrong sorts,' we have been labeled blood traitors."

When Ron finished, it was clear he didn't want to continue discussing the topic. "Thanks, Ron," Hermione said softly. While Ron continued working on the dresser, Hermione moved over to the closet. An uneasy silence filled the room as the two worked on their self-appointed tasks.

The awkward silence stretched for a few minutes before Hermione pulled an old-fashioned shirt from the closet. In an attempt to clear the air, Hermione lifted it up and called out to Ron, "Look at this blouse. It looks like it comes straight from Victorian fashion."

"You mean the shirt you're holding?" Ron asked. Hermione nodded. "You know, I've never really understood why women have so many different names for clothing. It's a shirt. Do you really need some other name for it?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "There are all kinds of different styles and cuts for shirts alone, Ron."

"What? You mean like 'long-sleeve shirt' and 'short-sleeve shirt?'"

"No, I mean like blouse, camisole, smock, and wrap, just to name a few."

"Yeah, never heard of those before."

"What about 'sweater?'" Hermione spat at him. When Ron looked like he was going to say something sarcastic, Hermione cut in, "Don't tell me you haven't. I know that your mother gives you all sweaters for Christmas."

Ron snapped his mouth closed and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Huh. Didn't know you were so into fashion, Hermione."

Hermione looked a bit sheepish. "I'm not, really. However, you try spending four years living in a dormitory with Lavender and Parvati; you'll pick up far more than you ever wanted to know."

Ron grinned, "Is that an offer? I wouldn't mind switching dorm rooms with you." Hermione growled and threw the blouse at Ron, hitting him in the face. "Oooh, with this I'll fit right in." He held it between himself and Hermione. "What you think, Hermione? Does it bring out the color in my eyes?"

Hermione didn't even bother looking at him, instead concentrating on emptying out the rest of the closet into the trash bag. She mumbled just loud enough for Ron to hear, "Prat."

With a grin, Ron threw the shirt into his bag. His expression moved to a grimace as he turned back to his task of emptying and cleaning the dresser before he let out a sigh and got back to work. "At least Harry isn't here having to deal with all this work."

"I don't know. I think Harry would prefer to be here with us rather than getting those letters we've been forced to send," Hermione said. "I know if I were in his position I would be rather upset with us."

Ron couldn't disagree with her, and the two once again fell into an uncomfortable silence, each dreading the confrontation with Harry when the finally saw him.

Over the course of the next hour, the two were able to finish clearing out the room, making it fit for future habitation for Order members. As the two dropped their filled trash bags near the door, Hermione said, "Well, now that that's done, we can finally get back to our summer homework."

Ron let out a groan. "Come on, Hermione, we just finished housework, and now you want us to do homework?"

"Just think, Ron. If we get it done now, then when Harry gets here we can all hang out and have fun rather than worrying about school work."

"Once he forgives us," Ron said.

"Once he forgives us," Hermione agreed.

"Alright, I guess you have a point," Ron grumbled.

The two gathered their homework and set up on the kitchen table to work until suppertime, wishing all the while that Harry was there with them.


End file.
